They were ready to leave long before Ayden was ready to go. He doubted he'd ever be ready. They would bring along one of the horses this time, as they would be carrying more provisions than usual. Volos believed they'd be traveling several weeks.
Volos had told Ayden about wending, a fast form of transportation. But, it required the use of powerful magic that would draw attention. The woodland fae also had a quick way of traveling by using the trees. But that was even more difficult than wending. They would have to travel on foot.
Ayden slept very little that night. He couldn't get his mind off of Freya; and when he wasn't thinking about her, he was worrying over his uncertain future. He knew he should sleep, but his mind raced on, stealing all of his rest. Finally, he disturbed Volos long enough for him to make his special tea. At long last, after allowing the steaming liquid to caress his throat, Ayden was able to rest.
When all was prepared the next day, Ayden made one last visit to Freya. After he made a feeble attempt at persuading her to let him stay by her side rather than venture out, she gave him some last minute instructions. Then, she put on a brave face as tears filled her eyes, and she gave Ayden a reassuring hug. "I love you, dear Ayden, no matter which choices you make and no matter what happens. Remember that."
Ayden's throat tensed and he only nodded as he hugged his grandmother. "Jynx," he addressed his ever-present cat. "Could you do me a favor? Stay here with Freya. Keep an eye on her for me, okay?" The cat surveyed him with squinted eyes for a moment, then leapt up onto Freya's lap and settled there, purring. "Thanks, friend."
"He's no ordinary cat, is he?" Da'ewyn's voice sounded from the doorway. Ayden had to quickly wipe a tear and shove aside the sad, empty feeling in his chest.
Turning to the doorway, he answered, "No. He's not." Without looking back, he followed the Veela out of the house.
Ayden walked a full day without speaking to the others. He listened to Volos and Pax talk about various things, but he didn't feel like joining in on the conversation. Shae Vale didn't seem as bright and cheerful to him. He finally just focused on the trail ahead, not talking, not thinking, and not feeling.
That night, Volos came and sat next to Ayden and spoke, "You know the last thing Freya would want is for you to mope around because of her."
Ayden didn't say anything. "Ayden," Volos spoke in a more stern voice, "If you want to help Freya, this is not the way to do it. She's been touched by a dark magic, but there is still hope for her. So, snap out of it, get your head in this mission, and find the sword. If you find that sword, you will be able to help Freya more than you realize."
This got Ayden's attention; he looked into Volos' snake-like brown eyes. "What do you mean, exactly? And don't you dare tell me I will know 'all in good time'."
Volos chuckled and said, "Just think about it for a minute. If it was Degus who sent the evil sprites that attacked Freya, then when Degus is defeated, a lot of what she has done will be undone."
A flood of hope washed over Ayden as the light of understanding clicked inside his brain. He looked at Volos' smile. "Thanks," he said.
"Thank me when this mission is over and we're all safely home. We have a long way to go. Try to get some sleep tonight. Here, drink some tea now. Maybe things will seem brighter after you've had a full night of rest."
"You've already helped things seem brighter. But I'll drink the tea. I don't want to have another night like last night," Ayden said and gratefully took the cup from Volos' hands.
The next day was bright and full of sun. Ayden felt better and was even able to join in conversations with his companions. Da'ewyn had ventured ahead to scope out the area. They hadn't seen her for a long while.
After several hours of walking, he caught a familiar scent and smiled to himself. When they stopped for a quick lunch, he snuck into the trees just on the edge of the clearing where they rested and waited. Volos and Pax carried on in conversation, oblivious to what Ayden was doing.
The soft breeze brought the smell of leather and flowers toward Ayden and he readied himself. Just as Da'ewyn passed silently near him, he yelled and tackled her. Volos and Pax leapt up in surprise, drawing their weapons. Ayden pinned the Veela to the ground and smiled. "Gotcha!" he crowed into her face.
"Get off of me you stupid human!" Da'ewyn growled and attempted to get her leg between them. But Ayden was ready this time and she was unable to make her move. After laughing in the Veela's face, Ayden stood and held out his hand to help her. Scowling at him, she slapped his hand away and stood on her own.
She'd traded her delicate attire for more practical leather britches and tank and her forearms were protected with leather guards. Her headband and armbands remained, however, their crystals glinting in the sunlight.
"Didn't mean to offend your highness!" Ayden said, bowing in a mocking fashion.
Da'ewyn leapt at Ayden with an angry yell and pulled at his hair. He growled as the two kicked and punched each other mercilessly. Finally, Volos walked over and put a hand on each of their chests and shoved them apart. "Stop!" he yelled and Da'ewyn, after regaining her balance, looked up at Volos and glared. "You two are going to draw more attention than any magic if you don't knock it off!" said Volos and then he turned to walk back to the lunch he had dropped in the dirt.
The companions traveled for a week with no unusual occurrences. Occasionally, they'd asked Pax to reveal the map for direction. Volos, Ayden, and Da'ewyn would each memorize a portion of the next part of their journey to keep from forgetting their way and to avoid revealing the map too often.
Evenings consisted of quick meals and quiet conversation. Volos sparred as quietly as possible with Ayden and Da'ewyn while Pax practiced various spells and enchantments. Ayden and Da'ewyn also attempted now and then to wrestle with one another, but were always quickly put to rest by Volos' fierce gaze and growling vocal chords.
Ayden attempted to meditate every night. Petting or brushing the pack horse helped calm his nerves, but he couldn't stop his mind from worrying over his grandmother or wondering about the days ahead.
Into their second week of traveling, Da'ewyn appeared from the trees to announce that some kind of gathering was taking place on the road ahead. After arguing if they should or shouldn't go around, they decided it would be best to stick to their course and make their way through the gathering. Perhaps someone there would have extra supplies for them to purchase. They could use more feed for the horse, and Volos' and Pax's water skins were wearing thin.
They came to a clearing void of trees or any other vegetation. Small clouds of dust danced around their feet as they crossed the bare ground. A large crowd hugged the outer edges of rope which formed a large ring. The noise was deafening as the crowd cheered, jeered, and guffawed loudly at two figures circling one another inside the ring. "Scrap fights," Da'ewyn said loathingly as she wrinkled her nose.
Ayden looked at her curiously. "What are scrap fights?" he asked.
"They are a very brutal, uncivilized form of dueling," Da'ewyn responded as she glared in disgust at the crowd. "I detest these fights and I detest the people who are involved with them even more." As they walked through the sweating bodies of the crowd, a man spat in the dirt directly in front of Da'ewyn's feet. Ayden was certain that any action in the ring would become tame compared to what he envisioned her doing to the spew-er. But she simply glared at him and continued walking.
The four companions tied the pack horse securely to a tree. The stench of sweating bodies smothered them as they found their way closer to the ring. Ayden had to crane his neck around an insanely tall man to catch glimpses of what was happening.
Inside the ring, a figure wearing a jet black, satin cloak circled the bulking form of a giant troll. The cloak could've been enchanted for all Ayden could tell as it floated eerily across the dirt. Only blackness could be seen where a face should've appeared inside the hood. Ayden shivered, thinking about doons--those evil shadow dw
ellers often wore cloaks to hide themselves from the light of the sun.
The troll's bulging form threatened to tear the scrap of material that covered the upper half of his body, and his strange looking pants were at least two sizes too small. A hideous smirk was plastered on his wart infested face as if he were already certain of victory. Neither of the figures carried a weapon.
Ayden finally made his way around the taller man and had a clear view of the fight. The excitement of combat was infectious and, as the crowd's shouting increased, Ayden felt the blood in his veins quicken. Without warning, the troll suddenly growled and lunged at the floating cloak.
His heart jumped with the crowd as he was certain the cloaked figure would be flattened beneath the troll's rock-solid form. However, the creature's body slammed loudly against nothing but dirt, causing an enormous cloud of dust to billow out from beneath him; the cloaked figure dodged easily and smoothly away. If expressions could kill, Ayden was certain the troll would have been victorious the instant he arose from the ground.
As the troll turned to face his opponent, weapons from the crowd were suddenly flung into the ring. The troll sauntered over and picked up a club the size of a tree. Murder glinted through his coal black eyes as he turned and once again faced the floating cloak.
The cloaked figure stood motionless in front of its foe, refusing any weapon offered. The crowd's excitement heightened as the two combatants drew toward each other. From somewhere beyond Ayden's vision an announcer was attempting a play-by-play, but his voice was swallowed in the thunder of hundreds of shouting voices.
The troll swung his club futilely at the figure who easily avoided every blow until the troll was dripping with acidic sweat. Throwing down the club, he grabbed a frightening looking stick carrying razor sharp spikes all along its stem; at the upper end of the stick, attached by rusting chains, were two enormous spikes, each of which was covered with hundreds of metal thorns.
The troll swung the weapon around his head as he smiled menacingly. The cloaked figure floated to someone in the crowd at the edge of the ring. It casually took a very simple, long, white, wooden staff and turned to face the troll. The creature surveyed the staff and then released a guttural laugh.
Ayden found himself cheering against the majority of the crowd in favor of the cloaked figure. He turned momentarily to see that Da'ewyn had him locked in a death-glare. He looked at her with a smirk, shrugged his shoulder, and turned back to watch the fight.
The next several moves happened so fast, Ayden could scarcely keep up with the action. The troll flung his weapon toward the cloaked figure several times. The figure seemed to be getting weary as it fought off every blow, moving too slowly only once as one of the spikes tore at the material of the cloak. The figure yelled for the first time, surprisingly in a feminine voice. The contrasting white skin of an arm could be seen through the torn cloth, and bright red blood trickled from an ugly looking scratch.
With the troll's vast strength, he again flung his weapon at the figure. This time, the cloaked figure was ready. It raised the staff into the air as the ends of the troll's weapon lashed out. The beast yelled in surprise and frustration as the spiked ends of his weapon wrapped the attached chains furiously around the staff until the spiked tips imbedded themselves into the wood. The staff glowed and sparks flared where the foreign weapon touched it.
The crowd gasped and booed as the cloaked figure, with one swift movement, gripped the staff and yanked the troll's weapon from his hands, tearing his flesh. Then, the troll's opponent leapt as gracefully and powerfully as a puma over his head. As the figure flipped over and began descending behind the troll, it struck him in the back of the head with the blunt end of the staff. Then, disturbing only a light wisp of dust, it landed softly and waited.
All was silent as the crowd watched the troll teeter back and forth for what seemed an hour. Finally, with eyes rolling back in his head, the troll fell face first into the dust and was still.
No one moved or made any sound until the dust settled. Then, at once, half of the crowd erupted with booing and half with exuberant cheering as the announcer found his way to the cloaked figure in the center of the ring. As he grasped the figure's hand and raised it in victory, the hood of the cloak fell away, revealing its secret.
Ayden's heart turned to stone and it dropped to the pit of his stomach; standing victorious over a giant troll in the middle of a shady fight in the heart of Shae Vale stood the sweat-soaked, fiery, red-headed figure of his former girlfriend, Isabella.
Chapter Eighteen
Surprises